entombment, and placed her upon a pedestal of stone. The broken arm, on being restored to the image, healed miraculously. A goparum was built and a pujari was found to take charge of the new temple. The ryots brought offerings of fruit, camphor, sugar, and butter, and prepared to do pujah. The terrible voice spoke again.
'You must sacrifice a child to me. I am not to be appeased by gifts such as these.'
Her words filled them with dismay. The pujah was left unperformed while they returned to their homes to seek the advice of their women. Long into the night they sat by the fire under the big banyan tree in the centre of their village, holding council with heavy hearts and perplexed minds. At last an old woman arose and said:
‘Pah! foolish men that you are to bring this evil upon us ! but since it has come we must rid ourselves of it as best we may. To-morrow take beams and boards to the temple; and there, before the open door, let Kolomayi see you making another raft. Now depart to your houses and sleep in peace. At sunrise carry out my instructions and all will be well.'
The next morning they began the raft with much noise of saw and hammer. When the evening came they heard Kolomayi's voice.
‘What are you doing?' she asked.
‘We are making a raft.'
‘What for?'
‘That you may continue your voyage on the river towards the sea which is but eighty miles away, and the flood is full and strong.'
‘Why do you wish me to depart? Have I not promised to protect you if you sacrifice at my shrine ?'
‘Our wives have told us that they are not as fruitful as the women of Travancore; therefore they will not permit us to offer you our children.'
